


No Matter What They Tell You

by skywriter123



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Child Abuse, High School AU, Possible Romance, Self Harm, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:02:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7034830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywriter123/pseuds/skywriter123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton has been beaten, spit on, downtrodden, and abused since he arrived in America. Now he is sent to live with The Washingtons and their son Lafayette. However Alex is haunted by his past with panic attacks, anxiety, and depression so much so that Alex is in danger. The revolutionary crew and Alex quickly become attached as Alex's dark secret threatens to engulf him. High school au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rise Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080439) by [ohNooOOOOoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohNooOOOOoo/pseuds/ohNooOOOOoo). 



> Thanks for reading. I can't get the spacing right, any help?

Alexander Hamilton sat in a fast paced car, watching as winding roads went past. They were in the Virginia countryside, in the middle of ass-backwards nowhere, as Alex called it. The driver of the car was his social worker, Charles Lee. Alex disliked Lee, as he was the bastard who left him in the foster homes he so dreaded. There had been a series of homes before this one, each cruel in their own way. Lee had no idea of the treatment Alex was given in these homes, he knew only that Alex had been kicked out of each and every one. This home, with the Washingtons was his last chance. His last shot.  
  
Alex knew a little about his new foster parents. The father, George, was a senator for Virginia. His new foster mother, Martha, worked as a nurse. They had an adopted son, a French one, although he did not know the other boy’s name, he knew they were around the same age. Fourteen or fifteen. He scratched at his arm, distractedly.  
Finally they pulled off the road to a driveway, long and winding, leading to a gorgeous estate. This did not bode well for Alex. These people had money – money to cover up any and everything wrong with them. Rich people made him uncomfortable anyway, being a poor immigrant from the Caribbean. He was used to the rich calling his people illegal freeloaders. His heart sank at the sight of the majestic estate, with three people standing out front.  
Lee and Alex got out of the beaten up car and walked to the front porch of the estate. There they were – George, Martha, and their son.  
  
“Ah Charles,” George said, “get here alright?”  
  
“It’s out of the way of course, but it wasn't particularly confusing.” Lee said pompously.  
  
“Will you come in, Charles?” Martha asked courteously.  
  
“Oh no. Far too much to do” Lee said. “However I will have a quick word with this one.”  
  
Lee led Alex a little ways away and grabbed him by the chin. Hard.  
“Listen up, brat. I pulled a lot of strings to get you placed here. George is a good man. Don't screw this up, it’s your last shot.”  
  
Lee was pulled away from him in a quick movement.  
  
“Get your hands off my boy.” It was George, and he looked less than pleased.  
  
“Don't come crying to me when you want him gone,” Lee spat and stalked back to his car.  
  
Alex stared at the ground, blinking quickly. He jumped when George put a hand on his shoulder.”  
  
“Son” he said.  
  
“I'm not your son” Alex said, for no particular reason. He instantly regretted his tone and tensed up, waiting for a slap.  
  
Instead George smiled. “Of course. Come inside and see Lafayette, he's been dying to meet you.”  
  
Alex did so and immediately a boy - with wild hair and dark skin in sharp contrast to his flamboyant clothing- set upon him.  
  
“You are Alexander, oui?” He asks in a heavy French accent. Alex nodded. “Excellent! I am LaFayette, Martha and George’s son.   
They are wonderful and will adore you! Come, we will go set up your room, oui? Come come mon ami!” Lafayette bounded up the stairs and, unsure, Alex followed several paces behind.  
  
“You are here, oui mon ami? I am right next door, see?” He flung open a room door, showing a brightly colored room covered in French flags and pop music posters.  
  
He rushed back to face Alexander, with a bright smile. “Do your like your room?”  
  
Alex looked around. The walls were a soft yellow and the bedspread was blue. Besides that the room was overwhelmingly bare. The desk was appealing – a fine roll top in a comforting wooden brown.  
  
“We will get some posters and decorations later today, oui?”  
  
“No, it’s fine. More than fine. Great.” Alex said quickly, not wanting to make a fuss.  
  
“Non! You cannot live like… This! So dull and not nearly colorful enough! Do not be shy little Alex.”  
  
Alexander bristled slightly at being called “little”, but he could tell Lafayette meant no harm.  
“I'm not so little, Lafayette” he said.  
  
“Of course you are! You are small, but fierce, I can see it in your eyes. Mon petite lion!”  
Alex blushed.  
  
“Boys!” Called George from below. Alex tensed, expecting the worst.  
  
“Dinnertime!”  
  
Alex sighed in relief, and Lafayette noticed.  
  
“Do not be afraid, mon petite lion. George and Martha are wonderful! They will love you!”  
  
Alex smiled tentatively, and Lafayette grinned back. The two headed downstairs for dinner.  
  
For dinner there was steak, cooked nicely through, potato salad, thankfully without mayonnaise, and beets, cut up into delicate slices. A nice meal. Too bad Alex couldn't swallow any of it. He pushed the food around on his plate, cutting the vegetables up smaller with the side of his fork to give the appearance of having eaten more.  
  
“We’re so happy to have you, Alexander” Martha began.  
  
“Thank you, Mrs. Washington.”  
  
“Please, call us Martha and George. Lafayette does and so do his friends. I expect you’ll be meeting some of them soon.”  
  
Lafayette nodded enthusiastically.  
  
“Once we get you to school mon ami, I will introduce you to all my friends. The Schulyer’s and Hercules and John.”  
  
“I-I look forward to it” Alex blatantly lied.  
  
“So George,” Martha began. “I thought that maybe you and the boys could go shopping for Alex this evening – I would join you, but I have some notes on my patients to finish.”  
  
George nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. That okay with you Laf, Alexander?”  
\Alex nodded and Lafayette said happily, “I love shopping!”  
  
Alex’s entire body began to tense up. They were going shopping, just him and George. And, well, Lafayette but he would most likely be bounding ahead excited, it was just his personality. It’d be just Alex and George. He started breathing shallowly, quick gulps of air as he tried to stay calm.  
  
George noticed first and said, “Alexander.”  
  
Alex didn't seem to hear him, so closely was he focusing on his panic.  
George crossed the room and came to Alex’s side. “Alexander.”  
Alex flinched away from the closeness of George’s voice, falling off his chair as he did so. He curled up, to protect himself from the torment he was so sure was coming.  
  
“P-p-please. Please.” Alex said, cringing.  
  
“Shush” George said softly, now running his fingers through Alex’s black hair. “It’s alright, son, I promise.”  
  
Lafayette got down on his knees next to Alex.  
  
“Mon ami? Mon petit lion? You are safe, no one here will harm you.”  
  
Alex finally stirred, reacting positively to the two’s voices.  
  
“I-I” he stuttered as he tried to sit up. George placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as Martha and Lafayette looked on, concerned.  
  
“M sorry,” Alex finally muttered, circling his knees with his arms, tucking them close to his body.  
  
“No need for apologies, my boy, it’s all alright.”  
  
“Oui, mon ami. We are just concerned for you.” Lafayette was right behind him in a comforting way.  
  
“O-okay.”


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex attends his first day at a new school.

When Alexander, George, and Lafayette arrived at the mall, Alex was immediately overwhelmed. There were so many stores – so many things to buy and to see, it was astounding. They were equipped with a list from Martha of all the things that Alex would need. Alex had not been given a voice in this list, nor had he even seen it before George pulled it out of a back pocket. He was nervous about this list. The Washingtons were rich, obviously, so that list must contain quite a lot, including many unnecessary items.

 

Alex was right. By the time they were halfway through shopping, Alex was given a laptop, a cell phone, case, and charger, various computer programs to be installed on the laptop, iTunes money for music, some CDs, and not to mention an absolute mound of clothing from socks to jeans. 

 

“Mr. Washington”

 

“George, please, Alexander.”

 

“R-right. George,” Alex said. “This is too much. I don't need all this.”

 

“Nonsense. Lafayette has even more clothes than this – this is just a start.”

 

“Sir, I don't need all this at all. I'd be fine with what I have.”

 

“Nonsense, mon ami!” Lafayette cut in. “I saw your bag, it was hardly big enough to contain a change of clothes. This is all necessary.” Lafayette came close, wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “It’ll be alright, mon cher” He murmured. “When I came from France they did the same thing. Seems overwhelming, non? I was just the same as you. An immigrant with no place to go but here. But it gets better, oui? You’ll love it here, little Alex, I swear to you.”  
Alex calmed down a little. Lafayette was probably right.

 

The rest of the shopping trip went by with little incident. Slowly, Alex because accustomed to choosing clothes for himself, and was soon the proud owner of many graphic t-shirts with American brands or comics decorating them. He had tank tops and jeans and three (three!) sets of shoes. George seemed to realize Alex was getting antsy about how much they were spending, so they called it quits the second Martha’s list was complete.

 

Driving home Lafayette chattered happily about his friends who were ‘going to love you mon ami, I can tell.’ and about various people in their grade. He warned Alex about shady characters like Samuel Seabury, George King, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison. These boys were “homophobic jackasses” who hated Lafayette and his crew.

Sure enough, the next day when Alex started school, they ran into King and his gang of loyal followers.

“Ah, Gilbert, I see you picked up another piece of immigrant trash, no? What’s your name, boy?”

Alex felt his hackles rise. “Hamilton. I suppose you're King, then? Not much like royalty, huh?”

King blustered. “This insolent twit may side with you, Lafayette, but he is nothing on Jefferson and Madison. I can't imagine why the new boy joined your merry band of faggots.”

“Is there a problem here?” A voice asked from the right. A tall black boy with short black hair asked. He had an eyebrow raised.

“Screw you, Mulligan” King replied, eloquently. He slinked away with another boy at his side.

Mulligan… Lafayette’s friend was called Mulligan, if Alex remembered right.

“Mon ami!” Lafayette called happily. Another boy appeared next to them, this one with curly hair pulled back into a bun. 

“This must be the Alex you were texting me about” Mulligan said. He introduced himself, “Hercules Mulligan. Wild and crazy guy number one.”

“John Laurens. Not wild and crazy guy number two. That skit is way too old.”

Alex was confused. Wild and crazy guys?

“It was an old SNL skit,” John explained. “Saturday Night Live, y’know?”

“Oh, I see. Umm, cool I guess.”

“It's not cool. You are not cool, Mulligan.”

Hercules put a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Laurens.”

Lafayette giggled at their antics. Alex was still vaguely confused so he said nothing.

“You're Alex? He really is little Laf,” Alex blushed when John said this.

“I am not little!”

“What are you, five two?” Hercules asked. Alex blushed again.

“Laf also called you fierce, tiny, and adorable, like a pissed off mouse. So blame him.”

Alex turned desperate eyes to Lafayette.

“I tell the truth, sorry, mon cher.”

Soon enough, the bell signaling first period rang.

“Now remember, I have an off period first thing, so expect me to be texting you.” Lafayette said to Alex. Laurens and Mulligan nodded too. They both had off first period so it was just Alex who had class to get to. Because of this, the three boys escorted Alex to his class, American History. Outside the classroom, a tall boy held court. 

“That’s Jefferson” John murmured to Alex. “You need to watch out for him.”

“Ah, Laurens, Lafayette, Mulligan, I see you have a new recruit. Another immigrant, eh, Lafayette? This one looks even more pathetic than yourself.”

Alex looked down, knowing he was right. Pathetic, that’s what he was... absolutely pathetic. He scratched his arm.

“Silence, Jefferson. Alex here has three times the balls than you ever will, and ten times the hair.” Lafayette got close. “So I suggest you back. The fuck. Off.”

Alex half-wanted to tell Lafayette not to bother - he’d dealt with this crap his entire life and in this case, Jefferson had a point.

Hercules and John were ready to make things physical if need be when the teacher showed up. Mr. Hornby was a younger man with kind features and an aura of not taking any bullshit.

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?”

“No sir.” Jefferson said lazily.

Alex just sighed, said goodbye to his friends, and walked into the class, his head down and his eyes dulled. This was not going to be a good day.

Throughout American History, Alex doodled in his notebook, wrote some lyrics down to songs that caught his fancy and generally did not pay attention. It took every ounce of willpower that Alex had to not ask to be excused to the bathroom for the rest of the period. Instead, he put his head down on his desk and focused his eyes into his lap.

Calm down, he told himself. You are fifteen years old, you can make it through one class period. Pathetic.

Alex rubbed at his eyes. He hadn't slept well last night - he hadn't slept well since the hurricane came. He sat slumped in his chair willing the clock to move faster, so he could escape the room and the growing sense of claustrophobia.

Finally (finally!) the bell rang. Hornby handed out a homework assignment and Alex immediately regretted zoning out of the lesson. He knew he had some reason for it, but even still a little voice in the back of his mind insisted he was lazy and undeserving of any chance at happiness and success.

Hornby called him back as he was trying to exit the door.

“Alexander, can I have a word?”

Alex supposed this was to be expected, being the new boy and all. Still he panicked. It would be just him and Hornby with no one to stop anything from happening.

“You seemed out of it today. Is everything alright?”

Alex was surprised at the care in his voice.

“How would you know if I’m out of it? I could just be a slacker kid.”

“I can tell you're not. There's something in your eyes that shows… Determination. A desire to learn as well. It's written all over you.”

“I'm sorry I didn't pay attention sir” Alex said quickly, trying to deflect the conversation and get out of there.

“Well, you'll do better tomorrow, won't you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Alex left the room in a hurry. Waiting for him were Hercules, John, and Lafayette.

“What kept you, mon ami?” Lafayette asked.

“Hornby wanted to talk to me about my slacking off today. I can't help it. I can't focus, I swear I don't mean to, please don't tell the Washingtons!” Alex’s voice was fast and trembling viciously. 

“Woah, woah. Calm down buddy.” Hercules said.

“I won't tell Martha and George if you don't want me to, but if focusing becomes a problem, you should tell them. They're here to help you and I.” Lafayette’s voice was calm and logical.

“I don't need any help.”

Lafayette looked at him, hiding his skepticism from the smaller boy. It wouldn't do to lose Alex’s trust.

“What’s your next class?” John asked Alex.

“French.”

“Oui, oui, mon ami! Let's take you to French. Who is your teacher?”

“Nortier. What are you guys going to?”

“History” said Hercules.

“Math” John said.

“Math” finished Lafayette.

“Let's compare schedules.” Hercules said.

It turned out that John and Alex shared Chemistry together, Hercules and Alex had Algebra together and Lafayette and Alex shared another off period together, at the end of the day. Alex would be surrounded by friends most of the day. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.

 

The boys all met up together during lunch later that day. For the first time Alex felt part of a group of friends, joking and laughing together with inside jokes and gentle punches when one made a terrible pun. It felt… great.

Once the school day ended they all joined together at the Washingtons to watch some movies and maybe study a little.

“We’re watching Inception.” stated Hercules.

“No, we’re watching Kill Your Darlings.” said Lafayette firmly.

“Por que no los dos?” Asked John. He took Spanish, not French.

“But which one first?” Protested Lafayette.

“Flip a coin, Jesus I don't care” John groaned.

Kill Your Darlings won the coin toss, so the boys settled in for a three hour or so movie.

When George and Martha got home they spotted a bundle of blankets on the couch pressed up against Lafayette. Hercules and John had woken up earlier and left the sleeping boys a note explaining that they left.

George felt happy at the thought of his two boys getting along so well. Lafayette would be good for Alex, he could tell.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: self harm

The weeks passed and Alex became more accustomed to life with the Washingtons. Their first family dinner out went badly when Alex had a panic attack over the prices of the food at the restaurant. It was an upscale place and Alex had on his best new clothes. He had been nervous the entire day of the dinner and his panic attack had been inevitable. But, once again, George had calmed Alex down with the help of Martha and Lafayette. 

Alex was beginning to really like George and Martha, even though his trust in them was still shaky at best. They went out of their way to be accommodating to his problems and were willing to help him in any way they could. 

This eagerness to help often left Alex alone at night, his irrational guilt eating him alive. On those nights he pulled out his pocket knife and cut himself, digging deep into his thighs and left wrist. He always wore long sleeved shirts, as it was much cooler in Virginia than the Caribbean. He was terrified the Washingtons and his new friends would find out, but he couldn't stop himself. It was the only thing that silenced the rushing in his head enough for him to sleep. The guilt afterwards was overwhelming. Here was George and Martha putting so much effort into his well being, and he squandered it, destroying himself so he could sleep. He couldn't help it. Even so he had nightmares every time he slept. 

One such nightmare had him near catatonic. He woke up sobbing and screaming for someone - anyone to help him. He begged an invisible attacker to stop, said he’d be “a good boy” just stop hurting him.

Lafayette awoke to the sounds of Alex’s screams and rushed to get George and Martha. Instantly upon arriving in Alex’s room, George was at the boy’s side. Martha tried gently to wake him up.

“Alexander, Alexander sweetheart, you're safe.”

Alex froze for a moment, then, upon seeing George, tried frantically to get away. He fell off the side of the bed and skittered across the floor, pressing up against a corner of the room.

“No! Get away!” His voice was hoarse and trembled in the cool air.

“Alexander, it’s just George and Martha.”

Alex stopped all movement and his eyes flicked around the room, trying to make out their shapes. Lafayette turned on the light and instantly Alex flinched again ducking into his arms.

He looked up from his arms slowly. “M sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You can't control your nightmares.”

“M sorry still. Didn't wanna wake you.” His normally impeccable speech reverted into more casual and slightly slurred language with sleep.

“Here, why don't we get you back into bed?” Martha insisted lightly. She turned to Lafayette.

“Why don't you go back to bed, Gilbert, sweetie?”

“You will be okay, mon ami?” Lafayette asked, concerned.

“Alexander will be fine” George answered. “Get some rest.”

The next day no one mentioned Alex’s nightmare. For this Alex was eternally grateful. He didn't think he could handle talking about his dreams. They were too...terrifying if he was to be honest.

That day at school, Jefferson cornered Alex in History class. 

“Hey, midget” he called, shoving Alex’s shoulder. Alex stumbled back into a desk, his eyes narrowed. 

“What?” Alex snapped. He didn't have time for this crap.

“Just wondering where your boyfriend is?”

“Who, exactly, is my boyfriend now?”

“That French faggot.”

“Oh, is he a bundle of wood with a French flag on it? I was unaware firewood could have a nationality.”

“What?”

“A faggot, you ignorant prick, is a bundle of wood, not a person.” He turned away, back to his open backpack.

“Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you!” Jefferson grabbed Alex by the shoulder and pulled hard.

“Touch me again and you’ll regret it.” Alex hissed out a warning. A small crowd had gathered around the two boys.

“Or what?” Jefferson asked in a mock concerned voice. He nudged Alex’s shoulder again.

Alex turned away, trying to control his temper.

“Too scared to do anything, eh Hamilton?”

Alex spun around, grabbed Jefferson by the hand, yanked his arm throwing Jefferson off balance, and punched him in the face.

“Fight fight fight fight!” The crowd around them chanted.

“You’ll pay for that, Hamilton!” Jefferson snarled, his hand covering his bleeding nose.

Just then, Hornby arrived. Spotting the two boys glaring at each other and the blood dripping from Jefferson’s fingers, he sighed.

“Fighting, Jefferson, Hamilton? Really? Principal’s office the both of you.” Hornby sounded disappointed and bored.

Adrenaline still rushing through him, Alex zippered his bag quickly and marched out. It wasn't until he arrived at the main office, with Jefferson on his tail, that he began to panic.

What would the Washingtons think?


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. CW for violence

George arrived at the school about twenty minutes after Alex was sent to the principal’s office. Luckily Alex wasn't suspended, but he was sent home for the day.

On the drive to the Washington’s residence George remained silent. Alex grew more anxious with every passing minute of silence, and by the time they reached the house he was on the edge of a full-fledged panic attack. What was George going to do to him?

They walked into the house, and George gestured to the living room doorway.

“Why don't you take a seat in the living room? I’ll be right there.”

Alex did so, his leg jiggling nonstop as he fiddled with his hands. He was convinced he was going to be sent back to the foster care center. He didn't want to leave Lafayette and his new friends. He didn't want to leave the Washingtons either. He liked George and Martha. They were kind and understanding to a fault.

George came back into the living room. Alex was trembling. George sighed and sat down next to the boy.

“Alexander, I want to hear your side of the story.”

“I-I… He-he called Lafayette a faggot and he kept touching me. He wouldn't stop. I warned him. I couldn't help it, Mr. Washington, I can't be touched, it makes me feel terrible.”

“It’s George still, even when you think you're in trouble.”

Think I’m in trouble? Alex wondered. Am I not?

“You were defending your friend and yourself. I don't think I should punish you for that.”

Alex sighed a breath of relief. He was safe.

“However, I would prefer it if there was not a repeat of this event. Understood?”

George’s voice was gentle, but brokered no arguments.

“Yes, sir.”

“George.”

“Yes, George.”

\-------  
Over the next few days Jefferson lay low. Alex remained on edge, becoming jumpier than before. However, Jefferson seemed to resist retaliating against Alex. This surprised Alex. Jefferson seemed the type to hold a grudge.

One day Hercules propped his feet up on a plastic chair and leaned back. “This is nice” he said. “Jefferson shutting up, I mean.”

“Don't” John warned. “You’ll jinx us.”

Turns out John was right.

Alex was walking around the park near the Washington’s house to clear his head. He was on the verge of another panic attack. He had been working on his math homework and it was frustrating him. He had to do well in math. He had to do well in all his subjects. He just had to. He couldn't waste his shot at success.

Alex continued to walk along a running path, smiling whenever he saw a dog run past with its owner. His hair was in his face, wisps brushing against his forehead, tickling him.

“Hey. Fag.”

Alex turned around, eyes hardening.

“What do you want Jefferson?”

“I told you you’d pay for what you did. Now that time has come.” He stepped forward menacingly with James Madison, Samuel Seabury, and King at his side.

“I'm not afraid of you, Jefferson.”

“You should be.” And then they were upon him. Alex may have been scrappy, but he was no match for the four tall boys.

When the fighting finally stopped, Alex was on the ground, curled into a ball as pain wracked his body.

“Oi!” A familiar voice called. “What are you doing to him?”

Jefferson and his friends scampered off before John could get a good look at them. John and Lafayette had come to the rescue too late.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one for you guys. Please comment to review

“Alexander!” John cried out in alarm. Lafayette rushed to Alex’s side, crouching down next to his prone body.

“We need help” Lafayette declared. “Go get George.”

“But-”

“No buts, we need George.”

Alex lay on the ground, whimpering slightly at every sound and movement. Lafayette whipped out his phone and dialed 911.

“My friend is in Cold Creek Park and he needs immediate medical help. He was jumped.”

The operator had him stay on the line to better describe Alex’s injuries. Lafayette quickly became frustrated with his own inability to speak English in a panic as he kept reverting back into French for phrases that couldn't easily translate. The operator had to keep reminding him to speak English.

Meanwhile, John sprinted the few blocks it took to get to the Washington’s residence. Upon arriving John shouted George’s name - completely frantic.

“John? What is it, son?”

“It’s Alex, sir. He’s been mugged in the park. We didn't see who did it. Lafayette’s with him now.”

“Take me to him.”

John and George ran as fast as they could and arrived just as the ambulance did.

“Alexander” George ran a hand through Alex’s hair.

“H-hurts.” Alex murmured. 

“I know it does, son. You'll be okay.”

George was the only one allowed in the back of the ambulance. He instructed Lafayette and John to seek out Martha and get her to drive to the hospital nearby.

Once they arrived at the hospital, Alex was whisked away behind swinging metal doors, leaving George staring desperately in his wake.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mentions of self harm and child abuse

Alex disliked the hospital. It smelt funny and the doctors kept asking him tons of questions - unnecessary questions in his personal opinion. Already the doctors had discovered his scars, from both his self harm and his foster families. The greenish yellow bruises from the beatings had yet to fully heal.

He was waiting for a doctor to come in and explain what was going on. Although he didn't know them well, he wanted George and Martha with him. Lafayette too.

“Mr. Hamilton, I trust you are doing well?” Finally a doctor came in. 

“Yes sir. I just want to get out of here.” The doctor laughed.

“Understandable, Alexander. Do you mind if I call you Alexander?” Alex shrugged.

“Now, there is a...delicate matter at hand. The bruises on your chest and back, and the scars on your back and wrists. Alex, tell me, who did that to you?”

“No one” Alex said quickly. “I fell.”

The doctor’s eyes were sad. 

“Now Alex, I can't help but think you're protecting the people who did this to you. Was it the Washingtons?”

“No!” Alex shouted. “Not George and Martha! They'd never do this.”

“Then who?”

Alex stared down at the blanket covering his lap. He remained silent.

“Alexander?”

Silence.

“The Washingtons are here if you want to see them.”

“They didn't do this” he gestured to his body. “I swear to god.”

“Okay Alexander. I’ll send them in, shall I?”

Alex nodded.

When they were let in, George and Martha were by Alex’s side in an instant. Martha cupped a his cheek in her hand while George sat on the edge of the bed.

“Alexander, sweetheart, are you alright?” Martha asked. Alex shrugged.

“I’ve had wor-” He stopped mid sentence.

“Lafayette and his friends have been worried sick about you, Alexander. You’ve got such severe injuries.” George looked concerned.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Alex asked.

“You had your ribs fractured - that’s why breathing hurts right now- and a fair amount of internal bleeding. And they think you have a minor concussion.”

“Oh. Shit. I mean shoot.” Alex looked up at George with frantic eyes.

“I think ‘shit’ just about covers it.”

“Boys, I don't like that kind of language.” Martha scolded gently.

“Alexander, the doctors have told us something very concerning.” George began. “They say that you have marks all over your body. They say someone has been hurting you. Is this true?”

Alex remained stubbornly silent.

“Alexander, talk to us, please.” Martha implored. Alex remained silent.

“You can trust us, son. I need you healthy again, son.”

At the word “son” Alex began to blink rapidly, tilting his chin up.

“Alexander, who’s been hurting you?”

And it was as if a dam burst. Alex’s thin body was wracked with sobs so large they sounded painful. George scooted closer to Alex’s head, so Alex could rest his head on George’s thigh. Martha stroked his back comfortingly. For several minutes, the burgeoning family stayed there, stuck in their own world for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you like and don't like.


End file.
